I’ve been watching NBC’s Trumpfest, The Apprentice, since it began four seasons ago. At first I watched because it was a Burnett production, and my wife and I were enjoying Survivor. So, we figured since Mark Burnett was the wunderkind of unReality TV, it would be worth a watch. Now in its fifth season, my wife has stopped watching, but I still catch it on Tivo.

I’m not a particular fan of Donald Trump, conspicuous consumption, materialism, the almighty dollar, cut-throat business dealings, white-collar back-stabbing, greed, jealousy, petty rivalries, or getting fired. Its not entirely schadenfreude—the joy of watching others experience pain—it’s more like the fascination of seeing justice served when incompetent workers get axed mixed with cheers for the scrappy underdog I want to win. Whatever the source of my fascination, I’m surprised my date with Donald has lasted into the fifth season. But it’s not about Donald. Not for me. I couldn’t care less how financially successful he is: his opulent lifestyle alternately bores and sickens me. And I just don’t “get” the awe these Trump-ites hold for him. No, it’s not Trump. I watch each episode with horror thinking, How can the head of any corporation possibly think these knuckle-draggers have what it takes to run a food pantry, much less a major enterprise? Each week is another slow, sweaty train-wreck, and I can't look away.

I think, of all the seasons so far, the only one where I really cared about the finale and who won, was last year, when the scary-smart, charming, Southern Baptist, Randal Pinkett, was chosen to be the apprentice. I had been pulling for him the entire season, seeing in him a young man with great emotional intelligence matched with good practical intelligence as well. That he was charming, handsome, affable, and a natural leader with clear integrity were all pluses. I thought he might be a believer, and when it was confirmed I was intrigued. What would motivate a brilliant young Christian to follow after a materialistic, ego-driven, business superstar? I rooted for him, but I also admired his finale competitor Rebecca Jarvis. In the end, Trump hired Randal—and when Randal was given the unique opportunity to bring Rebecca on-board as well, he balked. “This isn’t The Apprenti.” Apparently, there can be only one, in Randal’s book—despite his three predecessors. My respect for him took a temporary nosedive, and I was confused (but see Randal’s blog entry). So were others.

Values are a tricky thing and it’s hard to judge, from a distance, through the lens of selectively edited video, anything that was going on there. But, strangely, it's no easier figuring out what's going on in my own office. Working with normal, everyday people is fraught with misunderstandings, presumptions, biased conclusions, and misperceptions.

Throughout the five seasons I have watched each episode, taking mental notes. Note to self: don’t bad-mouth coworkers; I never know when they’re going to turn out to be an ally, a friend, or a motivated enemy, and it’s just plain mean. Or, Note to self: life doesn’t always come in binary yes-and-no, “hired” or “fired” dichotomies. Sometimes everybody wins. Sometimes everybody loses. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the two apart. In each season I saw a microcosm of the workaday world, with rivalries, jealousies, pettiness, and ego writ large. For me, The Apprentice is a little more than a reality game-show … it’s also a weekly lesson on what makes good leadership.

To that end, I offer ten lessons I’ve learned, in no particular order. These are not the only observations I’ve had, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. So these are the ten you get.

Some of you may have heard of Tim Sanders. He was the Chief Solutions Officer at Yahoo! from 2001–2003, before that he ran an in-house think-tank for Yahoo! Lately he’s been serving as the Leadership Coach there, while also hitting the leadership conference tour, and authoring a couple books along the way. His two main messages appear to be learning to love (in business), and learning how to be likeable. Conference attendees say his message is life-changing.

His first book, Love Is the Killer App, was a slender 214-page tome—that started out much larger. He cut 140,000 words from the first draft (my kind of guy … write long, cut short!), and the nut of his first book